User blog comment:Denrael Sabretooth/Death and Darkness RPG/@comment-3135907-20120320215020/@comment-3135907-20120321203539

Atleg casts his curved dagger at the surprisingly still-fleeing shrew. The shot misses and throws up sand about ten feet behind the shrew. Graffa, however, notches an arrow to her bowstring- much more accurate than a curvy knife, she thinks to herself with a grin -and fires it. This time it nearly hits the shrew, who is just barely spared death by slipping on the dune and rolling down it to face Salamandastron, merely another hundred yards away. At he gives up. Panting heavily, he draws a small dagger from his shredded tunic and awaits the stoat and fox.